


keep a place for me

by 33lavender



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, set in manchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 19:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14409459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/33lavender/pseuds/33lavender
Summary: “Save room for me in there,” he murmured, wishing he could undo the words immediately. They were too dangerous, too real.They were lacking in a conclusion, and for the sake of Phil's heart, perhaps it was best they stayed that way.





	keep a place for me

**Author's Note:**

> just a lil drabble i wrote in about an hour after a nasty writing drought :) and for the first time ever, it's not fluff are u shocked

It was the middle of the night. It could have actually been the middle of the night, or it could have been minutes away from the first light of dawn, but Phil had no desire to roll over and find out. His alarm clock was an angry red and his eyes, heavily lidded and accustomed to the darkness of the room, would appreciate that he didn’t.

It was of little importance, anyway; what did the time even matter when Phil knew as well as anything that when he finally nodded off again and awoke once more in the light of day that Dan would be gone?

This thought occurred to Phil, fully fledged as a sentence in his brain as though he were demanding this of himself, and he almost smiled. It did sound awfully dramatic when you put it like that. It wasn’t as though this was their last night together, although surely a whole other night would be devoted to losing sleep over that at some point in the future. Dan would arrive on his doorstep once more, kiss him hello as he crossed the threshold and throw himself on the couch, shoes and all, sure enough.

It was easier to let things slide at that time of the day. When the apartment was filled with light and sound; the babbling of the TV and the melody of Dan’s voice and food sizzling in the kitchen, usually, because Dan would whine and roll his eyes and toss himself around with a shit-eating grin if there wasn’t - the picture of a drama queen.

Phil had almost come to dread the night. This part of the night at least.

Without even really directing his brain to do so, Phil reached out the little way across the sheets between where he lay and where Dan was sleeping, almost as though it were a spasm. His fingers stopped just short of Dan’s back, hovering close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

In the past, they’d had rules about that sort of thing. No cuddling, no kissing afterwards, it was all pretty standard stuff. Predictably, it hadn’t lasted. It was rare nowadays for Dan to fall asleep without Phil petting at his hair. It hadn’t taken Phil long to realise how partial he was to it, and what was the harm, really?

Phil’s fingers were trembling, but it was just in the normal way that everyone’s do.

After a prolonged moment of hesitation, he finally laid the backs of his fingers feather-gently against the hollow beneath Dan’s shoulder blade, having decided that his breaths were heavy enough to denote deep sleep.

Unbeknownst to Phil, facing the other side of the room, Dan blinked.

Barely even ghosting over the skin, Phil stroked gently up and down, tracing the sharp line of his shoulder blade. His eyes drifted up to the back of Dan’s neck, and he winced - marks. He’d promised last time he wouldn’t leave any more. It was getting too warm outside for scarves and turtleneck sweaters not to earn you weird looks on the street.

More pressing than that, though, were one particular set of eyes who might happen to see them. It was no stretch of the imagination to think that discovering another man’s teeth marks in your boyfriend mightn’t be such a pleasant experience, and at this point Phil had to physically grip the sheets with his other hand, because thinking too hard about it would surely double him over with guilt.

“I don’t love him,” Dan would say at odd intervals, sometimes, while they watched repeats of TV shows on Phil’s couch or with spaghetti sauce on his chin at dinner. It was almost like he was saying it more to remind himself than to Phil, who had absolutely no idea what was in Dan Howell’s heart but knew that, amid the scorching self-hatred and debilitating guilt, he’d do anything for it to be him.

“Save room for me in there,” he murmured, wishing he could undo the words immediately. They were too dangerous, too real.

Eventually, Phil settled himself back into the shape of Dan’s body, and drifted off into a restless sleep. Dan waited, blinking and blinking at the glass of water on the nightstand, so acutely aware of the marks on his skin and the weight of Phil’s arm around his shoulder that he thought he might scream.

“Sleep tight,” he whispered as the door closed inaudibly behind him, and thirty minutes later, the right side of the bed had gone cold again.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from self control by frank ocean
> 
> find me on tumblr where this flopped lmfao @ floralhowelllester and as always pls don't be afraid to leave comments they make me so happy!!! have a nice day


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